


A New Animal

by briumy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Gore, Demon Blood, Episode: s04e14 Sex and Violence, Episode: s04e16 On the Head of a Pin, Gen, Hell, Hurt Dean Winchester, Minor Ruby/Sam Winchester, Post-Hell Dean Winchester, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05, Sick Dean Winchester, Torture, Torturer Dean Winchester, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26131522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briumy/pseuds/briumy
Summary: AU starting after the episode 04x14 Sex and Violence. References of season 4 and 5. Rated M for violence.Dean is devastated with what Sam said to him under the influence of the siren, so he decides to quit trying to be who he was and start accepting who he has become in Hell, embracing the pain and focusing on stopping the apocalypse.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever, actually this is the first time I write a story in my life, so please be forgiving
> 
> Also, I have to warn you English is not my native language, so I'm apologizing in advance for all the mistakes you're gonna see
> 
> With that been said, I hope you enjoy! :)

_"Wanna know why I didn’t tell you about Ruby and how we’re hunting down Lilith? Because you’re too weak to go after her. You’re holding me back. I’m a better hunter than you are, stronger, smarter, I can take out demons you’re too scared to go near. You’re too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boohoo.”_

Sam’s words kept playing in Dean’s head. Is he really such a liability? Does his brother really feel like this towards him? Does he matter so little to the person he loves more than anything? Well, Sam’s right, he's returned broken from Hell, weak, and, clearly, his brother doesn’t need him anymore. 

_“Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boohoo”_

He’s been fighting so hard against the horrible memories that, once again, he failed to see this. Sam’s right, he’s whining nonstop. _“Get a grip, soldier! Stop being a wuss! Suck it up!”_ , resonates the voice of his father in his head.

_"You’re holding me back“_

_“Yes, that’s it, Dean, you’re always failing everyone”_ a voice whispers in his head. Instead of helping save his brother, as Castiel told him to, he has accomplished zero, nada, and, on top of it all, he’s being a nuisance. Great. Everything because he’s too weak to endure what happened in Hell. 40 years is too long for you? Guess what? You were due for eternity, sweetheart, so be glad that it was **only** 40 years and get a grip! Stop feeling sorry for yourself and man the fuck up!

Lost in his thoughts, Dean started playing with his knife, lightly pressing his fingers on the blade. It was 2 AM, and, as usual, Sam was nowhere to be seen, probably out with Ruby. The blade rested comfortably in his hand, after all this was his weapon of choice for the 10 years he tortured souls in Hell. Without realizing, he pressed his thumb a little more forcefully and the blade broke skin, a drop of blood traveling down his hand. He stared dumbly at it. Blood, that’s another thing he was used to, not just in Hell, but in all his life.

Gripping the knife, Dean went out the motel’s door, walking to the back of the parking lot, till he reached a bench, in front of the woods, and sat down on it. Placing the blade against his forearm, he started to put pressure on it. “ _What is pain?”_ , he thought, as, breaking skin, blood started to run down his arm. He should know what pain is, he was tortured for 30 years nonstop. Going deeper with the knife, more blood started flowing. “ _Is physical pain the worst kind of pain? Or do Sam’s words take the prize?”_. Dying for his brother was easy, he would do it again, anytime, in the blink of an eye. Being tortured in Hell? Anything, but easy, and, at the same time, although it sure wasn’t a walk in the park, it certainly was better than hearing that he basically stands lower than a demon on his brother’s priority list. Yeah, Sam not needing him, not wanting him by his side, that was pain. Pressing the blade deeper, he realized it wasn’t that bad, it didn’t hurt so much, because pain like this he knew, was used to it, suffered for years worse injuries and, yet, he was still here. So he kept pressing the blade down, inch by inch. Maybe he should stop trying to forget Hell and start trying to remember it. He was used to take pain, used to be numb enough that it barely register until it got to a certain point. Alastair made sure he learned not just how to cause pain, but how to take it as well. _“You see, Dean, only if you know, first hand, how it’s like to feel real pain, that you can fully understand how to properly inflict it”_ , the demon used to say. And there’s another point: Sam has said he’s using his powers for the greater good, hasn’t he? Like this justifies he killing demons with his mind, because, this way, he kills the demon without harming the host. Well, Sam is not the only one to have dark abilities. Dean may not have powers, but he knows how to get answers from demons, he’s really good at it in fact, so, if he makes sure the host is already dead, he can be useful too. It’s time to stop feeling sorry for himself and, for once, use what he learned to the so called greater good Sam always talks about. Suddenly the blade stopped and he looked down at his arm, puzzled. The knife had reached bone and it still didn’t hurt as much as Sam’s words.

_“You’re too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself.”_

Yeah, that’s right. He should be doing anything but feeling sorry for himself. He should concentrate on being numb to pain, keeping his problems to himself effectively, and, quite frankly, he should stop being reckless too, because guess what? If an injury or illness get out of hand, you become a burden. But he wants to quit fighting? Well, too bad, because he doesn’t deserve to get what he wants. It’s time for him to start doing whatever he has to do to try to stop the apocalypse. He has to remember everything about Hell, how he was tortured and how to be the great torturer he became down there. This way he can be useful, if not for his brother that doesn’t want to have anything to do with him, than at least for human kind, and, well, he doesn’t trust Heaven, but he trusts Cas, he’s already noticed the angel is not a hammer, that his goal is to do the right thing, and he has proven to be a good friend too, one he can trust, so he should start working with him for a change.

_“Remember Hell, remember being tortured, remember being the torturer”_ , a voice in his mind chants. He picks up the blade again and starts carving his left arm, drawing a symbol, the one Alastair, his master, passed upon him, signaling he was finally good enough to be considered Alastair’s official apprentice. Going deep enough to scar, he finishes the drawing. There. Now every time his mind tries to forget, the symbol will be there to remind him. _“Remember Hell, remember being tortured, remember being the torturer”_.

Making his way back to the motel room, he cleans the knife and goes to the bathroom with the first aid kit. The wound where he stabbed himself is bleeding profusely so he quickly cleans and starts stitching it, then he proceeds to the mark on his arm, cleaning it well too. The cuts are deep enough to require stitches, so he has to do a job good enough just to stop the bleeding, but in a way it will leave a good scar. After getting all done, Sam still hasn’t come back, but it's better this way, because then he can just go to bed and sleep without having to face his brother again so soon after the episode with the siren. He falls in a deep sleep. _“Remember Hell, remember being tortured, remember being the torturer”_. This time, his nightmares don't hurt as much, although their content are the same. Now he can maybe even label them as just bad dreams, or, who knows, just dreams, because, in fact, they are just memories, nothing out of the ordinary, looking at the majority of his life.

The next day, as Sam announces he's gonna take a shower, Dean steps out of the room to get some fresh air and, outside, Castiel appears.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas. How is it hanging?”

“Umm, nothing is hanging, not that I know of.” Castiel says with a puzzled look.

Sighing Dean says “No, Cas, I mean how are you?”

“Oh, then I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“So? What brings you here? Is it something about the seals? Sam is taking a shower, but he’ll be out soon.”

“Actually, I would like to talk to you.”

“Ok, go ahead.”

“There is.. wait, what is that on your arm, Dean?”

“It’s nothing, Cas.”

“This isn’t nothing, Dean.” Castiel grabs Dean’s arm and pulls the sleeve up, revealing the symbol. “You did this. Why would you mark yourself with this symbol? You know what it means.” Castiel asks with a slightly worried face.

  
“Yes, I know its meaning and that’s the reason I did it.” Dean says with a blank look as he retrieves his arm and covers the mark.

“I don’t understand.”

"I’m tired of fighting what happened in Hell, of pretending it didn’t change me. Sam was right when he called me weak.”

“You’re not weak, Dean.”

“Listen, the truth is I was trying to be someone I no longer am. I’m not saying I got over all that happened, but I don’t have the luxury of time to dwell on things. This mark on my arm makes sure I don’t forget what I’ve become. And what I am now is ugly and twisted, but I can use it as a mean to an end. Fearing I’m gonna loose myself this way is pointless, because I already did, it’s not like I spent some months torturing souls, I spent 10 fucking years doing it, what had to change has already changed. So I’m quitting complaining.”

“I don’t quite agree with you, but I respect your decision. You know I’m a soldier of Heaven and, unfortunately, from time to time we have to make choices that are not the ones we would like to make. Just know I believe you’re a good man, Dean, a good man who, sadly, suffered a lot in his life.”

“Thank you, Cas. And.." Dean starts, looking a little uncomfortable "Well, I don’t trust Heaven and none of your brothers, but Ido trust you, so know that I’m gonna do what I can to stop the apocalypse.”

“I trust you as well, Dean. And that’s why I’m here. You made me see that some of my brothers’ actions were contradictory, so I started paying closer attention, and I think you’re right, something’s wrong, sometimes it almost appears as if some of the orders I get are not about effectively stopping a seal from breaking.”

“That’s exactly what is bugging me, Cas, because the thing is angels are powerful beings and some seals could’ve been easily prevented from breaking. This is serious, Cas. We have to find out more about it, because if there’s a chance Heaven is really up to something, I don’t believe Hell is sitting around with its thumb up its ass.”

“You have a point about Hell too. So what actions do you suggest we take from here?”

“I think you should keep an eye on Heaven and I should start poking and prodding around here, making some demons talk to see if I can gather some intel.”

“Are you going to be fine with this? With interrogating demons?”

“Yes.” Dean says with a hard expression.

“Very well then. And Dean, don’t tell Sam about this, I know he’s your brother, but he’s still consorting with a demon and this is something really serious. I trust you, but, unfortunately, I can’t say the same about your brother.”

“I understand, Cas, I'll keep this just between us. And, if I’m being honest, sometimes I’m not sure to what extent I can trust Sam at the moment.” Dean says as he remembers, again, what happened with the siren, when Sam used his memories about Hell, the ones his brother asked for him to share, against him.

“We will see each other later” and, with that, Castiel was gone.

Meanwhile, Sam had gotten out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, and looked through the window, just as the angel appeared and started talking to his brother outside the motel room. After some time, as the angel vanished, Dean started walking to the room, his brother stopped, looked at something on his forearm, the same Castiel had held earlier, shook his head slightly and entered the room.

“What’s up with your arm?” Sam said.

“What?”

“Your arm, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing."

“Ok.” Slightly odd, but okay. “So, what did Cas want?”

“Nothing, just needed to tell me something.”

“And?” Sam said, impatiently this time.

“And he told me.” Dean said sternly, ending the conversation.

* * *

** TBC **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned up a little shorter, but the next one will be longer, I promise. :)

They were on a hunt, a group of vampires was attacking people in Liberty, Missouri. There were five of them and the brothers had found their nest. Now, three were down, Sam was fighting one and Dean, the other. As Dean cut off the head of the vampire, he glanced at his brother who, having dropped the machete, was picking it up from the floor. The vampire was barely on its feet, but, as Sam was beginning to stand up, Dean saw the creature take a knife out of nowhere. At this, Dean jumped into action, shoving Sam away, who fell on the ground, and cutting the vampire’s head off, but not before the thing stabbed him in the gut.

“What the Hell, Dean?! I had it!” Sam said angrily. “You know what? I’m tired of this ‘knight in shining armor’ attitude of yours”, Sam said and then stomped out of the warehouse.

Clearly he hadn’t seen Dean getting stabbed. _Would it make a difference? Would he care?_ Dean thought as he made a quick self inventory, analyzing the wound. _Ok, a clean cut, but deep, so bleeding quite a beat, but nothing I can’t handle, the only problem is the damn knife was filthy_.

They made their way to the motel, Dean driving and Sam sulking. Inside the room, they put their stuff away.

“Wanna hit the shower first?”

“No, you can go.” Sam answered.

“All right then.”

Going to the bathroom, he quickly grabbed his toiletry, a change of clothes and the first aid kit, and, guess what, Sam didn’t notice it or, who knows, maybe his brother noticed and simply didn’t care that he was probably hurt, Dean wasn’t really sure anymore. Taking off his jacket, he realized that it was the thickness of its material that had prevented the blood from seeping trough, because his t-shirt was saturated with it, as was the waistband of his jeans. He had to be fairly quick then, before blood loss made him pass out, noticing he was a little dizzy already. Thinking about what he should do, he decided to risk taking a quick shower, because he was too dirty to try to clean just the cut itself. Stepping off the shower less than 5 minutes later, he grabbed the edge of the sink as a wave of dizziness threatened to knock him off his feet. A little lightheaded, but not about to pass out anymore, he patted himself dry as best as he could, put some boxers and pants and started on his wound. Sitting on the toilet lid - no way he would be able to do this standing up - he grabbed the peroxide and cleaned the wound as deep as he could, even pushing some gauze with his finger so he could rub the inside of it too, not acknowledging the pain at all. Pouring some more peroxide, he, then, started stitching it, and, as sweat dripped from his face, he put the last stitch. Blood loss suck, it’s the kind of thing you simply have no control over. With shaking hands, he applied a good amount of antibiotic ointment, took some antibiotic pills for good measure and wished infection wouldn’t set in, although, judging from the state of the knife that stabbed him and how a little red and warm the skin around the cut was, it was less likely he would be this lucky, so he grabbed a bottle of Tylenol to put on his nightstand in case he developed a fever. Tiding up the bathroom the best he could from his sitting position and putting his t-shirt on, Dean prepared himself for the hard part: standing up and reaching his bed.

“Ok, it’s now or never” he said to himself.

Standing up brought a bout of dizziness and black spots danced in his vision. Taking a deep breath, Dean focused on reaching his target: the bed. Opening the door, he managed to glance at Sam.

“All yours.” He mumbled, as he made his way to his bed and almost passed out immediately.

“Listen, Dean, I’m sorry I snapped at you on the hunt.”

“It’s okay, Sam.” Dean managed to say, but, to him, Sam wasn’t really apologizing, he was just saying what he thought was the right thing to say in this kind of situation.

“Hope you didn’t use all the hot water, Jerk.”

“Bitch.” _Words without meaning, all an act_ , Dean thought and, as Sam entered the bathroom, he fell into oblivion.

Hot. The room was too hot. He was being consumed by fire. As he opens his eyes, he can feel he is sporting a fever, and, with one glance at the room, he notices Sam is nowhere to be seen, which means he is probably with Ruby. He looks at the nightstand and, as he sees it’s 01:00AM, he’s thankful he brought the Tylenol with him, so he dry swallows a couple of pills and tries do go back to sleep.

Some time later he wakes up again, he feels definitely worse and thinks he’s probably burning up. Scanning the room, no sign of Sam yet. He tries to sit up and fails miserably, his vision suddenly blurring. He tries to look at the clock, it reads 02:00AM. Probably. His sluggish brain starts to think:

“ _What do I do? Tylenol? Not doing the job. Stopped sweating, so really high fever. High fever? A cold bath maybe would help. I just gotta get to the bathroom. Right, lets sit up. Holly crap, that was not a good idea. Why can’t I sit up? Oh, right I have a high fever. Right. But why? Oh, I have a bandage on my stomach. Knife wound. Filthy knife. Fever. Right. Should give the wound a look. Lets just sit up. Fuck, not a good idea. Wait, this sounds familiar. Whatever. Focus, Dean, focus. Lets try again. Filthy wound that needs checking. Really high fever. Can’t sit up. Crap, I need help. Sam’s not here, so I’ll call him._ ”.

Dean calls Sam, the phone rings, but goes to voice mail. He tries two more times, but the result is the same. He, then, dry swallows a couple more Tylenol and waits to try to call Sam again. Once more, the call goes to voice mail. After waiting some more time, another try and still voice mail. He feels his fever is getting worse, but what can he do? Slowly succumbing to the pull of darkness, Dean murmurs as kind of a last prayer:

“Hey, Cas, I know you’re probably busy, but if you could help me… I, I’m sorry asking for your help, it’s just that I gotta no one…”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas?”

“Yes, you called me.”

“And you came.”

“Yes.” Castiel says matter-of-factly.

“I just… I was not expecting you to actually come, I know you’re busy and it’s not like helping a guy like me is some kind of priority.”

“You are a priority to me, Dean.”

“Thanks.” Dean said, sheepishly.

“You are welcome.” Coming closer to Dean, Castiel looks concerned as he says “You are unwell, what happened?”

“Hunt. I think I was hurt. Can’t really think straight right now. Damn it. It was so hot a minute ago and now this room is freezing. Ah, yes, hurt, right. Stabbed. Filthy knife. Wound probably infected. High fever. Tylenol not doing the job. That’s it. And now I can’t even sit up to try to run a cold bath and re-wrap the wound.” Dean said, going from confused to frustrated.

“Where is your brother?”

“I don’t know. Probably out with Ruby. When I woke up the first time he wasn’t here already.”

“I see. So how can I help you, Dean?”

“Hmm”, Dean hesitated. ‘ _This is really embarrassing, but it’s not like I have a lot of choice right now’_ , he thought. “Could you help me get to the bathroom?”

So Castiel helped Dean to the bathroom and started following the hunter’s instructions. He treated the wound, that was indeed becoming infected, although it was clear that the cleaning and antibiotic ointment Dean had applied earlier had definitely helped. Then, he ran a cold bath and eased Dean into the tub. As soon as the hunter’s feverish skin touched the water, he started struggling to get away from it, but Castiel held him firmly, yet gently, so the cold water could help lower the fever. Unfortunately, throughout the night, it took several trips between the bath tub and the bed, until the fever finally broke. Now, Dean was laying in a bed full of towels, that Castiel used so the hunter wouldn’t be on a wet mattress, and was starting to drift off when he turned to the angel.

“Thanks, Cas”, he whispered.

“You are welcomed, my friend”, the angel said.

After Dean fell asleep and Castiel was satisfied with his health improvement, Sam finally entered the motel room. He looked at the protective stance of the angel and the state his sleeping brother was in.

“Cas? What happened?” He said with a puzzled and slightly worried look.

“You were not here.” Castiel said harshly.

And, with that, the angel vanished.  
  


* * *

** TBC **


	3. Chapter 3

Since the episode with the vampires, they have been hunting non stop, so they decided to take a short break and headed to Bobby’s. As they arrived, the hunter was standing in the front porch waiting for them.

“Hey, Bobby.” Dean said, giving a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, son.” Bobby said, eyeing him worriedly.

“Hey, Bobby.” Sam greeted the hunter.

“Hey, son.” Bobby said, throwing a questioning look at Sam and then guiding the boys to the living room.

After the three hunters relaxed a little, talking and drinking some beer, Dean excused himself, claiming he was going to take a shower. Sam started to leave too, when Bobby interrupted him.

“Hey, Sam, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, Bobby, go ahead.”

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush here, so I’m gonna be straight with you: what happened to your brother?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, with a puzzled look.

“What do I mean? You must be kidding.” The hunter says, disbelievingly.

“There’s nothing wrong with him, Bobby, we’ve been hunting a lot, but that’s all, nothing happened.”

“Are you blind, boy? Do you even live with your brother? The kid is like a walking empty doll, everything works, but there is no life behind it. So I’m asking you again, Sam, what happened?”

“I honestly don’t know, Bobby.” _I actually haven’t noticed anything. Did I miss something?_ Sam thought to himself.

“Well, then go and find out.” Bobby said decisively.

Meanwhile, Dean was standing in front of the mirror before entering the shower stall. Dead eyes stared back at him. He decided to accept who he had become, but that left him feeling hollow, specially since he realized he wasn’t living with Sammy anymore, he was living with someone that looked down on him, he was living with a stranger, Sammy, his little brother, had left him again, he was utterly alone. Suddenly the walls began to bleed, the smell of sulfur permeating the air. He stepped under the shower and started the water, but it was blood that came down. It was okay, he didn’t mind anymore, nothing new, it’s not like he wasn’t used to blood, so he started to shower, hot blood covering him until he blinked and the blood was gone, replaced by water.

After speaking with Bobby, Sam walked up the stairs to talk to his brother. Reaching the room, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw. His brother had just got out the shower, so he was already in his jeans but still shirtless, rummaging trough the first aid kit. His torso was covered with various kinds of wounds, in different stages of healing, most of the recent ones with stitches, the skin practically a mixture of black and blue, his arms were not much better, and his left forearm had a leather protector. Dean, seeing Sam enter, made a grunt noise of acknowledgment and resumed his actions.

“What the Hell happened, Dean?” Sam asked, truly shocked.

“What do you mean?”, Dean said, as he sat down on the bed, pulled the hem on his right leg, revealing a grotesque sight: the ankle was bent a little awkwardly and it was double its size. Then he just grabbed it and, with a rough and quick motion, straightened it, the movement causinga sickening sound, while Dean didn’t even flinch.

“Oh my God.” Sam almost gagged, Dean continuing with his actions, wrapping the ankle tightly, straightening his jeans, standing up and going back to the first aid kit.

“What do you want, Sam?” Dean said in a flat tone.

“Dean, when did you get those wounds? Why the Hell didn’t you tell me you were hurt?! You could’ve been killed hunting while off your game!” Sam said, angrily.

“I don’t know if you have noticed, but wounds tend to happen in hunts. And I didn’t hide them from you, they happened and I took care of them, it’s not like I have to give you a report. About hunting while being off my game, I always make sure I can manage it and, if I can’t, then I tell you.” _Or at least I try_ , was kept unsaid. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna compromise a hunt.” _I’m not gonna get in your way_ , Dean thought.

Hearing his brother say that if he needed help with a wound, he would tell him, Sam’s mind went to the vampire hunt in Liberty.

* * *

_“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Sam, asked angrily, as Dean woke up and looked at him. After all, he had been waiting for his brother to wake up since Castiel had left the motel room._

_“Hello to you too, Sam.” Dean said, unfazed, and propping himself up in a sitting position, grimacing a little._

_“Oh, no, we’re gonna talk about this, because I enter this room and what greets me? Cas, by your side, while you were out like a light. Then he just vanished without telling me a thing, leaving me here with you, dead to the world and with a huge bandage on the gut. So enlighten me: why didn’t you tell me you. were. hurt?” Sam says, exasperated._

_“You know what, Sam? You wanna hear it so much, then here it is. The vamp you were fighting was hiding a knife and stabbed me before I killed it. It was nothing serious. So we got here, I properly cleaned and stitched the cut, took some antibiotic to be safe and went to bed. But the damn knife was rusty and filthy, so I woke up sometime later with a fever anyway. I was gonna tell you, but you weren’t here, so I took some Tylenol and went back to sleep. Woke up again some time later, the fever was clearly worst, but surprise: you were still not here. I tried calling you, several times might I add, but you were probably too busy, because not only you didn’t pick up any of my calls, but you didn’t call me back either. The Tylenol was not working, the fever kept getting worse and there was nothing I could do. But, thankfully, Cas was able to spare some of his precious time to come here and help me. So there it is. I tried to tell you, but you weren’t here.” Dean said, walls higher than the Everest._

_Sam was staring at his brother with a deer caught in headlights look. ‘You were not here.’ had been Cas’ words. ‘The vampire was gonna stab me, that was why he shove me out of the way’, Sam thought. His mouth was dry, no words coming out._

_“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Dean said, as he slowly made his way to the bathroom._

* * *

“It’s not just about the hunt.” Sam said, guilt raising its ugly head. “You h.. stop, stop, you’re gonna pop a stitch!” Sam said as Dean was bending down, rummaging trough his duffel bag looking for a t-shirt. Dean ignored Sam, and resumed his search until he reached his goal, grabbing a military green one. In the end, all the movement made a stitch pop, two actually.

“Huh” Dean said as he looked at his side, where now a small trail of blood could be seen. At that, he went to the first aid kit again, cleaned the wound well and stitched it back up, putting a bandage on top to secure it, and putting his t-shirt on.“There, problem solved.” He said emotionless, as he walked to the bed.

“For God’s sake, stop walking so much, no, scratch that, how are you even walking on that leg? Your ankle is a mess, you have to give it a rest.” Ignoring him once again, Dean just put his boots on and walked to the door, pausing to answer.

“My ankle is properly taken care of, I wrapped it tight, so walking on it won’t make it heal wrong. I’m not an amateur, Sam, I know how an untreated injury can screw up a hunt, as I said, I’m not gonna let that happen.” Dean said with a blank expression.

“So what? Instead of trying to avoid being hurt, you are picking the wounds you can treat?” Sam said, exasperated.

“I’m not picking anything. As I said, wounds happen in a hunt.”

“Not that many, not unless you are being reckless.”

“Being reckless is doing something without thinking about the consequences, I think if the consequence is worth the risk and then I make my decisions.” Dean said sternly.

“Well, then the problem here is your standards about the risks you are willing to take.”

“You know what, Sam? I’m not gonna talk to you about standards.” _If there’s someone with messed up standards here, it’s not me_ , Dean thought to himself.

With that, the older brother walked out of the room, leaving Sam standing there, looking lost, with a mixture of anger, disbelief and worry.

Dean went out of the house to grab some air when Castiel appeared right in front of him.

“Holy crap! Warn a guy, Cas!” Dean said holding his chest.

“I’m sorry, Dean, it was not my intention so startle you.” Castiel said without moving.

“Hmm, Cas? What have we talked about personal space?”

“Oh, right, I apologize.” Castiel said stepping back.

“It’s a good thing you came, I had to talk to you. I went after some demons, low rank ones, didn’t even have to press too much for answers, and one let scape there’s something going on in Danvers, that maybe I could find some answers there.”

“Danvers? This is actually why I came here for. There is a seal in that city and we think there will be demons trying to break it. I am going to tell you more once we are inside so your brother and your friend Bobby can hear it too.” Castiel paused for a moment. “Dean, I have to tell you something. I was told not to, but I think you deserve to know.”

“What it is, Cas? You’re making me kind of nervous.”

“I would rather tell you in a more secluded place”. Castiel said as he looked in the direction of a window in Bobby’s house.

As Dean followed Castiel’s gaze, he spotted Sam looking at them. “Ok. I’ll need a low profile place to interrogate the demon once we are in Danvers, so we can talk there.”

“Very well. I will make sure to provide you a warded place where you can work in safety.”

“Ok. Now let’s go inside so you can fill us in the details.”

Once inside, Castiel started telling the hunters what he knew.

“Before being called Danvers, the place was known as Salem Village, where Martha Cory, a powerful witch, was executed. Someone is trying to bring her back. Dean, your duty here is to stop that, as Martha Cory is the seal. If you need anything, call me when you get to Danvers. I will leave you to it now.”

“Bye, Cas.” Dean said and, with that, the angel was gone.

After some research, Sam gathered some information and spoke up.

“Martha Cory was a woman known for being a dedicated member of the church and a respectable person in the community. She was against the Salem witch trials that were happening at the time, claiming there were not such a thing as witches, therefore the trials were a fraud. People saw her public behavior against the trials with bad eyes. When she went against her husband going to one of the examinations in the trials, the suspicions grew and, finally, when a girl claimed Martha bewitched her and turned her blind, she was accused of witchcraft. After that she was found guilty and sentenced to death, being hanged on September 22 1962, in the last of the hangings of the Salem Witch Trials.” Sam paused a little and then continued. “And it’s unknown what happened to her remains, great.”

“Wow, that witch was a cunning one. Infiltrating the church to try to convince people to stop the trials. Too bad for her it didn’t pay off at the end. Well, at least now we know we have a few days left to get there and find where the ritual is going to take place. I’ll go get my things, meet you in ten?” Dean said.

“Sure.”

After that, the brothers headed to Danvers. As soon as they got there, they checked in a motel and started to research about Martha Cory. Sam went to the library and Dean to town to see if he could talk to some locals. As he got to the library, Sam got a call from Ruby.

“Hey, Sam. I heard you’re in Danvers.”

“How did you know, Ruby? We just got here.”

“Well, if there’s a seal, there’s a Winchester.”

“You’re right about that.” Sam said chuckling.

“So, where are you staying at?”

“The Knights Inn, by the Interstate.”

“I know where it is. So I’ll meet you there by midnight.”

“Ok.”

As the day went on and the boys didn’t find anything useful, they went back to the motel and, later, went to sleep. Sam was laying down just waiting for his brother to fall asleep and, as he heard the soft and even breaths, he got up and went to meet Ruby. But the thing is that Dean, for his part, was already expecting that, so he waited for a while after Sam got out of the motel room, so he could go out and try to find the demon he was looking for. Getting at least a name - the demon apparently went for the name Chad, how lame - Dean came back before Sam, and went back to sleep. Morning came, both brothers acted like nothing had happened. Sam meeting with Ruby while believing Dean was unaware of his activities and Dean taking the opportunity to go after answers about what really was going on with Heaven and Hell regarding the apocalypse.

They finally found where the witch was buried and Bobby called with an incantation that probably would work to stop the ritual, which would happen tomorrow, September 22. They got everything they needed and prepared for the next day. They got there in time, three witches had started the ritual already, but with the incantation Bobby provided, they were able to stop them and, therefore, the seal was not broken. With the witches now dead, they called Castiel to inform him.

Back at the motel, after going to sleep, the events of two nights before repeated themselves. But, this time, Dean finally got a hold of Chad. He then proceeded to call Castiel, who provided a place where the interrogation could take place. There, the hunter and the angel talked before Dean started his job.

“So, Cas, you said you had to talk to me about something serious.”

“Yes, Dean. Before I start, I would like for you to understand that none of it was your fault, you could not know what would happen.”

“What are you talking about, Cas?”

“There is a prophecy regarding the apocalypse. It says ‘And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break’. This prophecy came true. You are the righteous man, Dean.”

“I, I broke the first seal?” Dean says, voice quivering.

“I am sorry, but yes.” the angel said with a sad look in his eyes.

“So I’m the responsible one for all of this? My weakness damned the world.” Dean says, feeling his soul shattering once more. “Why did Heaven rescue me, Cas? I should have been left to rot in Hell, that’s what I deserved.” Dean says with sorrow, regret and self-hatred.

“Dean, you are not weak. On the contrary, you are a strong man for having lasted so long in Alastair’s hands.” Castiel says earnestly. “Heaven rescued you because, although we were late to prevent you from breaking the first seal, the prophecy does not end there, it goes saying ‘The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it’. Which means is your fate to stop the apocalypse, Dean.”

“This is too big, Cas, I don’t believe I can do this. I, I’m not strong enough.” Dean says dejectedly, slumping his shoulders.

“You will not be alone, my friend. You can count on me to help you along this path.” Castiel says, reassuringly.

“I ca…” Dean suddenly stops. _I don’t get to quit. I don’t deserve to. It doesn’t matter what I want or what I think I can or can’t do. If I made this fucking mess, then is my responsibility to do everything within my power to make it right, even if I fail, even if I go down, then I’ll go down fighting._ “You know what, Cas, thank you for telling me this, I had to know, because the truth is I did this, it’s my fault, so it’s my damn responsibility to at least try my damn hardest to fix it.” _If he fights or not, it’s just not his call to make anymore._ “You’re a good friend, thank you for having my back.” He says in a serious and honest tone.

“You are very welcomed, Dean.”

“Well, now I have a job to do.” The hunter says, a grave and dark tone coloring his voice.

“Very well. Call me when you finish it. I will clean this place then.”

“Ok. See you later, Cas.”. And, with that, Castiel was gone.

Dean started walking trough the house and opened a door at the end of a corridor. There, Chad, the demon, was tied to a rack, where a huge and intricate devil’s trap was laid. The hunter stepped into the room and went to a cart full of tools.

“Let’s begin.” Dean says as he picks up a razor, voice cold and devoid of emotions.

* * *

** TBC **


End file.
